CHAPTER XVIII
Days passed, still Yosef did not return to the countess, but Malinka said to Augustinovich,—
"Pelski may offer himself any day to Lula."
"And if he does not, she may offer herself to him," answered Augustinovich, with emphasis.
"Oh, that is not true, not true."
"We shall see."
"No, Pan Adam. Lula has much womanly pride, and if she should marry Pelski it would be only through that same pride, through anger at Yosefs indifference. Besides, to tell the truth, Pelski is the only man who loves her, for he is the only one who has remained on whom she can count."
"Ah! but evidently she likes to count on some one."
Malinka was angry.
"She counted once on Pan Yosef; she was deceived. How can you blame her, when he does not come—do you understand?—when he does not come?"
Pan Adam was silent.
"She has been deceived painfully," continued Malinka, "and believe me, I alone know what that costs her, and though we are not so friendly as before (she rejected me herself), I see often how she suffers. Yesterday I went to her room and found her in tears. 'Lula!' asked I, though she withdrew from me, 'what is the matter with thee?' 'Nothing, I suffer from headache,' said she. 'My Lula,' said I, 'thou hast heartache, not headache!' I wished to throw myself on her neck, but she pushed me aside, and then stood up with such haughtiness that I was frightened. 'I was crying from shame,' said she, firmly. 'Wilt thou understand, from shame!' I wished to understand her, but was unable; I only know that the evening of that day I saw her in tears again. And dost thou see?"
"What does all this prove?"
"That it is not easy for her to renounce her idea of Yosef. What has happened that he does not come?"
"But if he should come?"
"She would not marry Pelski."
"Oh, I ridicule the idea that 'she would not.'"
"Yes, for you ridicule everything. But Pan Yosef? Is it noble on his part to desert her in this way?"
"Who knows what he intends to do?"
"He ought to know himself," answered Malinka, decidedly, "and he should not conceal his intentions from her."
"He has no time, he is working."
That day, however, Malinka convinced herself that Yosef was not sitting so diligently at home as Augustinovich had represented. While walking with her mother, she met him passing with some young man. He did not notice them. Malinka was almost terrified at his appearance. He seemed to her as pale and crushed as if he had recovered from a grievous illness. "Then he has been sick," thought she, after returning home. Now she understood why Pan Adam would not explain the absence. "Yosef commanded him not to frighten Lula." All at once Yosef rose in Malinka's eyes to the loftiness of an ideal.
Augustinovich came in the evening, as usual. In the drawing-room Pani Visberg and the countess were present.
"Pan Adam," exclaimed Malinka, "I know why Pan Yosef has not been here for so long a time!"
Lula's eyes gleamed, but that moment she controlled herself; still her hands trembled imperceptibly.
"The poor man, he must have been very sick; he is as pale as if he had come out of a coffin! Why did you not tell us of this?" asked Pani Visberg, quickly.
"Oh, Pan Adam was afraid that we should speak of it before Lula. Was that nice?" asked Malinka.
"What is the matter with thee, Lula? Art sick?" "Nothing, nothing! I will come back in a moment."
Her face was pale, breath failed her. She went out, almost fled to her chamber. Pani Visberg wished to follow her. Malinka detained her gently but decisively.
"Thou must not go, mamma." Then she turned to Augustinovich; her voice had a sad and serious sound.
"Pan Adam?"
Augustinovich bit his lips.
"Pan Adam! What is this? 'Lula is a coquette without a heart,' is she not?"
"Perhaps I was mistaken," blurted out Augustinovich; "but—but—"
He did not dare to cough out of himself at the moment that Yosef was going to marry Helena, that he would not come any more.
On returning home he was also afraid to tell Yosef what had happened.
Lula shut herself up in her chamber. Her head was on fire, and thoughts like a garland of sparks and ice were besieging her temples, and in the silence could be heard distinctly her hurried breathing and the throbbing of her heart. Pelski, Malinka, Pan Adam whirled around her in inexplicable chaos, and out of those fragments of thought as out of a grave rose higher and higher the pale, almost lifeless head of Yosef, with closed eyes. "He is sick! he is sick!" repeated she, in a whisper. "He will die, and never come here again."
Poor Lula interpreted differently from Malinka Yosef's absence. She judged that he had sacrificed himself for her, that, not wishing to stand between her and Pelski, he had renounced her, and therefore he suffered so much and was sick. "Still, who told him that I should be happy with Pelski?" whispered she, quietly. "He did not trust me. My God, my God! but could he trust me?"
Memory brought before her as a reproach those moments of gleaming looks, alluring smiles, and velvety words given to Pelski; she remembered also that blush of shame with which she was blazing when Pelski learned that Yosef was the son of a blacksmith. And now she hid her burning face in her hands, but that was shame of another kind. It seemed to her at that moment that if Yosef himself were a blacksmith she would kiss his blackened forehead with delight even; even with perfect happiness would she place her head on his valiant breast, though it were covered with the apron of a blacksmith.
"How dark it is in my eyes! I did not know that I loved him," said she, trembling and aflame.
Her bosom moved quickly! Again some thought the most tender decked out her forehead with the brightness of an angel; she threw herself on her knees before an image of the Virgin.
"O mother of God!" cried she, aloud, "if any one has to suffer or to die, let me suffer, but preserve and love him, O Most Holy Mother!"
Then she rose in calmness, and was so bright with the light of love that one might have said that a silver lamp was shining in that dark little chamber before the image of the Holy Virgin.
During the two following days Augustinovich did not appear; but Pelski came, and according to Malinka's previsions, proposed to Lula. Seeing his cousin's face calm, and smiling with good hope, he expressed to her his hopes and wishes. The more painful was his astonishment when Lula gave him a decisively negative answer.
"I love another," was the substance of her answer.
Pelski wanted to learn who "that other" was. Lula told him without hesitation; then, as is done usually on such occasions, she offered him her friendship.
But Pelski did not accept the hand extended to him at parting.
"You have taken too much from me, you give me too little, cousin," whispered he, in a crushed voice. "For the happiness of a lifetime—friendship!!"
But Lula felt no reproach after his departure. She was thinking of something else. This is the bad side of love, that it never thinks of anything but itself. It excludes particulars, but as a recompense includes the whole. Thou feelest that if the world were one man thou wouldst press him to thy bosom and kiss him on the head as a father.
Something like that did Lula feel when she went to Malinka's chamber after Pelski's visit. She needed to confess to some one all that lay on her heart.
Malinka was sitting near the window. In the twilight, on the darkened panes, could be seen her mild, thoughtful little face. All at once Lula's arms were clasped around her neck.
"Is that thou, Lula?" asked she, in a low voice.
"I, Malinka!" answered Lula.
She was sitting on a small stool near Malinka'a feet; she put her head on her knees.
"My kind Malinka, thou art not angry with me now, and dost not despise me?"
Malinka fondled her like a child.
"I was very much to blame as thou seest, but in my own heart I have found myself to-day. How pleasant it is for me here near thee! As formerly we talked long and often let it be so to-day! Art thou willing?"
Malinka smiled half sadly, half jestingly, and answered,—
"Let it be so to-day, but later it will change. A certain 'His grace' will come and take Lula away, and I shall be left alone."
"But will he come?" inquired Lula, in a very low whisper.
"He will come. The poor man was sick surely from yearning. I did not understand what it meant that Pan Adam would not tell me why he came not; now I understand. Pan Yosef forbade him, he would not terrify thee."
"I think that he did not wish to hinder Pelski—so unkind of him to do this."
"But what did Pelski do?"
"I was just going to tell thee. He proposed to me to-day."
"And what?"
"I refused him, Malinka."
Silence continued awhile.
"He would not even take my hand when I gave it at parting, but could I do otherwise? I know that I acted very unkindly, very unkindly, but could I act otherwise? I do not love him."
"Better late than never. Thou didst obey the voice of thy heart. Only with Pan Yosef canst thou be happy."
"Oh, that is true, true."
"In a month or so," continued Malinka, "we shall array Lula in a white robe, weep over Lula the maiden and rejoice over Lula the wife. Thou wilt be happy, he and thou. He must be a good man, since all respect him so much."
"Do all respect him so much?" repeated Lula, who wanted to laugh and cry at the same moment.
"Oh, yes, mamma fears him even, and I also fear him a little, but I respect him for his character."
Lula put both hands under her head, and resting on Malinka's knees, looked into her face with eyes bright from tears.
Meanwhile it grew perfectly dark, then the moon rose, the dogs fell asleep; nothing was to be heard save the whispers of the two maidens filled with fancies by their talk.
All at once they were interrupted by the bell at the entrance.
"Maybe that is he!" cried Lula.
But it was not "he," for in the first room was heard Augustinovich's voice,—
"Are the ladies at home?"
"Go, Lula, into that room and hide there," said Malinka, quickly. "I will tell him how thou didst give the refusal to Pelski, I will beg him to repeat it to Pan Yosef. We shall see if he does not come. Thou mayst listen there."
The door opened. Augustinovich entered.